


Little James

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: lewis_challenge, Fluff and Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Trope Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie still couldn’t quite believe what was going on – a curse, apparently, one Innocent was thankfully familiar with, and one that rarely lasted more than a day. A curse that had left James physically shrunken to his five-year-old self but with all his planet-sized brain still intact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little James

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly AU, obviously! With huge thanks to Owlbsurfinbird for being the most encouraging and supportive beta.

“Twenty-four hours?” Robbie could hear the disbelief and frustration in his own voice, and tried hard to rein it in. “What am I supposed to do with him for a whole bloody day?”

Judging by Innocent’s fond yet exasperated face, though, his second attempt at protest wasn’t much better than his first.

“Take him home, obviously,” she told Robbie, shuffling some papers on her desk and slipping them into a cardboard wallet. “I can’t take him, and he can hardly go back to his own flat alone in case someone sees him and calls social services. That’s the last thing we need.”

“‘He’ is right here,” piped up a small, slightly shrill, indignant little voice. “And ‘he’ would very much prefer you not discuss him as if he wasn’t.” A brief pause, then a sullen, “Sorry ma’am, sir.”

Innocent turned to the little boy sitting in the armchair in front of her desk, his short legs kicking in the air where they hung over the edge of the seat. Drowning in an adult-sized Cambridge hoodie, tousled blond head poking from the top, he appeared to be no more than five years old.

“My apologies, Sergeant Hathaway. It’s easy to forget that you’re still yourself in there, all appearances to the contrary.”

Robbie still couldn’t quite believe what was going on – a curse, apparently, one Innocent was thankfully familiar with, and one that rarely lasted more than a day. A curse that had left James physically shrunken to his five-year-old self but with all his planet-sized brain still intact.

“James, she’s right, man. You can hardly go home on your own.” Robbie scrubbed one hand back through his hair, knotting it at the back of his head and kneading at the tense muscles there. He had a proper headache coming on already, and the day was far from over. “You okay to come home with me? We’ll get some dinner, get some sleep, and you’ll be back to your regular super-sized self in no time.”

Little James pouted adorably, his full pink lips turned down in a frown, and Robbie could practically see Innocent biting at her own lip in an attempt to resist cooing over their sergeant.

“Okay, sir,” James whispered eventually, nodding his little blond head. “Thank you.”

“No bother, man, and no thanks necessary. You’d do the same for me.” Robbie nodded to Innocent in farewell then stepped over to where James sat, holding out his arms to the boy. _Man. Boy._

But James shied away. “What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Robbie.

“Picking you up, of course.”

“But I can walk. I’m not that small.”

“No, you’re not, but your shoes didn’t get shrunk with you, remember?” Nor had James’s clothes, which had led to a few awkward moments after the curse had taken effect, while they’d all still been trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “So unless you fancy walking barefoot through the station and across the carpark wearing only that hoodie like a dress of some sort…”

Robbie let his voice tail away, waiting for James to reach the obvious conclusion, and trying desperately not to patronise the man.

A beat, then – “You won’t drop me, will you?”

“I promise I won’t drop you.” And with that, Robbie suddenly found his arms full of small, skinny boy, a pair of thin arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Too tightly. “Need to breathe, James,” he gasped, and immediately the arms loosed fractionally.

“Sorry,” little James whispered, and Robbie shifted the boy into a more comfortable position on his hip, careful to keep him snug against his own body at all times.

“I won’t drop you,” he reassured James again as they left the office and made their way through the mostly-empty station. “You’re safe with me.”

James pressed his face harder into Robbie’s shoulder, mumbled something unintelligible into the suit fabric.

“Couldn’t hear that, man. Speak up a bit.”

“I said – ” James lifted his head just enough to whisper into Robbie’s ear. “ – I don’t like being this small. Everything isn’t usually this big.”

“Must be strange,” Robbie agreed mildly, nodding a quick goodnight to the bemused-looking desk sergeant as they slipped out into the staff parking area. “Still, you were obviously this small once, even if you don’t remember it. Light as a feather you are, too.” Lighter, even – James was really such a little twig of a thing that Robbie almost felt afraid to hold him too tightly in case he snapped something.

“I was little until I was twelve,” James told him in a conspiratorial tone. “Then I had the most ridiculous growth spurt. Growing pains like you wouldn’t believe.”

That sounded so wrong coming in the voice of a five year old boy, and Robbie had no idea what to reply anyway, so he just grunted as they reached his car at last, where a new problem presented itself.

“Damn. No booster seat.”

James giggled. An actual high-pitched, adorable giggle that would have set all the women in the station cooing, as well as a fair number of the men. “I’ll be good and sit really still, sir, don’t worry. We’re not going far, are we?”

“It’s not you sitting still that I’m worried about, it’s all the other idiots out on the road.” Safety concerns warred with a sudden desire to get James home and into the warm, and a tiny shiver running through the slender body in his arms made up Robbie’s mind. Innocent would be able to fix any tickets if they did get pulled over, and Robbie would drive very carefully and very slowly, just in case.

James must have sensed Robbie’s unease, though, as he sat as still and as silent as a stone the whole way home. Thankfully there were few other cars on the streets with rush hour long over, and in the blink of an eye they were pulling up outside Robbie’s building.

Robbie let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, unpeeling his fingers from the steering wheel, and James giggled again. “Relax, sir, we’re home safe.”

Turning to the small boy in the passenger seat, Robbie huffed a laugh before asking, “Do you think you could see your way to calling me by my first name, James? Robbie, man. I’ve said it before, especially when we’re off duty, and I think this is about as off duty as it gets.”

Big brown eyes blinked up at Robbie, and those pouty lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. Eventually, James managed to squeak, “I’ll try, sir – sorry, Robbie.”

Robbie slipped out of the car and hurried around to open the passenger door, reaching over James to unbuckle the seat belt which was, by design, too stiff for small fingers. And this time, thankfully, there was no hesitation in the way James allowed himself to be scooped up into Robbie’s arms and cradled close as they entered the flat.

“You hungry, James?” Robbie asked as he settled his little bundle of boy-sized man down onto the sofa.

“Hmm, I suppose. If you are.” James didn’t sound too sure, though, and Robbie hesitated for only a moment before sitting close by James’s side with a frown. 

“You doing okay?” He barely resisted the urge to ruffle James’s fluffy blond hair, suspecting the gesture would be entirely unwelcome, and instead rested his hand gently on a bony shoulder. “This must be really disconcerting for you.”

That bony shoulder shrugged, though James didn’t look up at Robbie, tugging the sleeves of the hoodie down over his hands instead. “I’m okay. Sorry you’re stuck having to take care of me, though. I would’ve been all right on my own for one night, I’m sure.”

“And how would you reach the oven, or the shower, or the front door handle, for that matter?” Robbie joked, hoping to make James laugh. No such luck. “James, you’re no bother at all, and I’m happy to have you here. This is just like any other night you’ve spent on my sofa, yeah?”

“Yeah?” At last the little blond head swung up to look at Robbie, who was surprised to see a quivering bottom lip and damp brown eyes.

“Yeah, James, really.” Robbie gave in to the need to pull his downsized sergeant into a hug, delighted when those skinny arms went immediately around his waist to embrace him back.

He couldn’t imagine what James must be feeling, even knowing that his miniaturisation would only last for a day at most. Being so small and so helpless must be terrifying, particularly for such an independent and private man as James Hathaway, and Robbie couldn’t help but feel it would have almost been easier if James had been shrunk mentally as well as physically.

There was an undeniable sniffle, and Robbie’s hovering parental instincts kicked up the final few notches into top gear. With a shift and a heave, he lifted James’s tiny body fully into his lap, letting him bury his face in Robbie’s chest, those small arms tightening more than he’d imagined possible, and cold little toes poking into Robbie’s thighs.

More sniffling, and Robbie pressed his lips gently to the top of that soft blond hair, feeling his own eyes grow a little damp. There seemed little he could say in comfort that wouldn’t be patronising, though, and so he simply sat and let James ride out the wave of emotion.

When the last of the sniffles had faded away and James’s arms had relaxed their grip just a fraction, Robbie cleared his throat and said quietly, “I can’t be arsed to cook. You fancy pizza?”

James lifted his head an inch. “Pepperoni?”

“Naturally. Double pepperoni, extra cheese.”

“Okay. Thanks.” And with no fuss James simply unwound himself from Robbie’s arms and climbed back onto the sofa, reaching for the remote control and settling into the far corner without ever quite making eye contact.

Robbie let him go almost reluctantly, allowing his thirty-something sergeant to regain some of his lost dignity, and the evening settled into something approaching normality, with a pair of pizzas on the way and a Top Gear repeat on the telly.

In a way, it was all too easy to forget that James was currently the size of a nursery school child, and so, just before the pizzas were due to arrive, Robbie stood to fetch some plates. “What are you drinking, James?” he asked absently, startling slightly when a high-pitched little voice piped up from a nest of sofa cushions.

“Beer, please.”

Robbie nearly choked on thin air. “I am not giving you a beer, James. Juice or water?”

“But I want a beer. I’m allowed a beer.” When Robbie turned back to the sofa, James was pouting once again, that full bottom lip quivering slightly and his wide eyes practically begging. Robbie wondered absently if it was a deliberate tactical move on James’s part or simply a natural gesture. “I’m not really a child, Robbie, and I’m allowed a beer if I want one.”

“I know, man, but…” The father – and grandfather – in Robbie balked at the very idea of giving the slender blond boy a bottle of beer, but the friend in him recognised that James needed something normal. “Do you honestly think it’s a good idea?” he hedged, rather than refusing outright. “Your five year old body isn’t used to alcohol, and one sip’ll probably put you out cold for the night. Your choice.”

James tilted his head on one side, clearly considering Robbie’s carefully chosen words. “I know you’re manipulating me, but you do make a good point,” he mumbled eventually. “Juice, then, please.”

Managing somehow not to smile at his victory, Robbie silently fetched two glasses of orange juice – there seemed no point in rubbing James’s nose in it, after all – and thankfully the arrival of their dinner changed the topic nicely.

James’s new, smaller stature made itself known in other ways soon enough, though. After barely finishing one slice of pizza, in the time it had taken Robbie to eat three-quarters of his own, James pushed his plate away with a frustrated little huff.

“No good?” Robbie asked around a mouthful, worried that perhaps the pepperoni was too spicy for a five year old’s taste-buds. “I can make you something else if you fancy, cheese on toast, or maybe just a bowl of cereal – ”

“I’m full.” James folded his arms across his narrow chest, the sleeves of the adult-sized hoodie he still wore falling back over his hands, and sounding surprisingly angry.

“That’s okay,” Robbie said carefully. “You’ve only got a little tummy right now. The pizza’ll keep for the morning – it won’t go to waste.” Cold pizza, to Robbie’s mind, was one of life’s simple pleasures, though the look of revulsion that crossed James’s face and the theatrical shudder that wracked his skinny frame told Robbie exactly what the other man felt about that idea.

“Not fair,” James grumbled, sounding adorably put-out by the whole thing, before immediately yawning. “That’s not fair either. It’s not even eight o’clock and I’m exhausted.”

“James, just remember – ”

“I know, Robbie. I know I’ve only got a little body, and I know it’s going to get tired more easily than my six-foot-three body, but it still isn’t bloody fair!”

“Oi, watch your language, young man.” The words slipped from Robbie’s mouth before he could even think about them, and for a horrible moment the whole evening balanced on a knife-edge before, in unison, they both collapsed in a heap of laughter, James’s high-pitched giggles blending with Robbie’s deeper chuckles.

When they eventually calmed, James yawned another jaw-splitting yawn, and Robbie felt brave enough to suggest, “Bath and bed?”

James just nodded in reply and climbed carefully down from the sofa, the hoodie reaching nearly to the floor as he rubbed at one eye with a tiny fist, and Robbie rested one hand gently on the little blond head as he stood himself.

Half-expecting a protest of some sort at any moment, Robbie padded on through to his bathroom and started to run a bath, adjusting the temperature carefully so as not to scald James’s slender body. Without thinking he dropped in one of the foaming bath bombs Laura had bought him as a joke – it was a manly citrus and pine scent, after all, and not at all childish.

There were soft footsteps behind Robbie, and he turned to see a tired-looking James watching him from the bathroom doorway, sucking now on the cuff of his sleeve in what was clearly an unconscious gesture of comfort.

With a fond smile, Robbie just turned back to the filling bath, kneeling down and rolling his sleeves up to test the water again. He couldn’t help feeling glad James that was allowing him to do this. Memories of his own kids’ bath times in another life came flooding back to him, though of course he’d missed more than he’d have liked. The job had stolen far too many of these peaceful moments over the years.

James came to watch over his shoulder. “Not too deep,” he suddenly said, sounding worried, and Robbie obediently turned off the taps. “That’s perfect.”

“Right, come on then, you.” Without making too much fuss, Robbie helped free James from the oversized hoodie and lifted him up and over into the bath, making sure it was neither too hot nor too deep for him. He hovered for a moment, those damn protective instincts kicking back in, before reminding himself that James wasn’t really five years old and was highly unlikely to drown himself accidentally while playing with the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll give you half an hour then come give you a hand getting out, okay?”

James nodded, though a small, adorable frown appeared on his brow. “I can manage.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you trying to climb out on your own – it’ll be slippery, and you’re not used to being so tiny.” For a second it looked like James would protest, so Robbie took a deep breath and quickly added, “Let me help you, James, please? Humour me?”

Another nod, with the briefest flash of a cute little smile this time, and Robbie left James to it, pulling the bathroom door most of the way shut but not closing it fully, just so he could hear if James needed anything.

As he busied himself clearing away the remnants of their dinner, wrapping the leftover pizza in foil for the morning, Robbie found his head was spinning. It was all so confusing, and he wasn’t even the one who had been cursed – James was still James, but at the same time he was so little it was hard to remember that, and the more tired he grew the younger he appeared.

For all that Robbie’s latent parenting instincts had kicked in, though, he was very much aware that James was not his son. He’d never had fatherly feelings for his sergeant, not even during their very first cases together when James had seemed so young and Robbie had felt so old. Feelings of friendship, certainly, and a deeper connection he’d been careful not to examine too closely. No wonder it was all so confusing.

And goodness only knew what was going on in James’s little head.

A few more odd-jobs around the flat, and the allotted time passed quickly. Robbie grabbed the bath towel he’d thrown in the tumble dryer to warm earlier, and tapped on the bathroom door, calling softly, “James? You alive in there?”

There came a tired almost-giggle, and an audible splash, and Robbie pushed the door open to see little James sitting in the bath just as he’d been left, though the bubbles had mostly gone. James had obviously managed to wash his hair, his blond locks now curling damply across his forehead and over his ears, and as Robbie watched he leaned forwards to make a big show of pulling out the plug.

As the bathwater drained steadily away, Robbie was all too aware that this could be embarrassing for the both of them, James in particular. Moving swiftly yet deliberately, he knelt back by the side of the tub, determined to keep it practical and quick.

“Up you come then,” he told James quietly, holding out a hand to help the small figure stand, and wrapping him immediately in the warmed towel from head to toe. “Ready?”

“Ready,” James replied equally quietly, cheeks flushed pink with heat from either the bath or embarrassment, and Robbie carefully lifted the towel-wrapped little body out to stand on the bath mat. He gave James a cursory rubdown, tugging the towel higher to pat the worst of the dampness from hair that almost immediately fluffed up into a blond halo as James yawned widely once again, his slender frame swaying slightly where he stood.

Instinctively, Robbie scooped James back into his arms, towel and all, and climbed to his feet. He was grateful that James was such a light child – he’d have thrown his back out if the boy was any bigger.

“Robbie?” James asked muzzily, exhaustion clear in his high tones, as he let his head drop down onto Robbie’s shoulder. “What…?”

“Let’s get you to bed, man.” With no fuss, he simply carried James straight through to his one bedroom, where he’d already turned down the bed and laid out an old Newcastle United shirt for James to sleep in. “You’ve had a long day, what with being cursed and all.”

He helped a spaghetti-limbed James into the shirt then waited for the little body to curl up in the bed, blond head sinking down into the pillows, before tugging up the covers and smoothing them over James’s shoulders. “There,” he whispered. “How’s that? Comfortable enough?”

James’s eyes were already closed, and it was clear to Robbie that it wouldn’t be long before he was deeply asleep, but he roused enough to mumble, “Where are you going to sleep? Sofa’ll knacker your back.”

Robbie had agonised briefly over that very question while James had been in the bath, and had already come to a decision. “I’m going to sleep right here, if that’s okay with you. Bed’s big enough for both of us, especially with you the size you are. That way, if you wake up and forget where you are, I’ll be right here. And I won’t knacker my back.”

Left unsaid was his fear that James might have bad dreams, given the day they’d had and the curse he’d been hit with; Robbie knew he’d feel better if he was close by James’s side, just in case, and suspected James wouldn’t mind him being close either.

“Okay,” James breathed, a tiny smile hovering on his lips. “Good.” And with that, his little body fell completely limp beneath the blankets as he toppled over the edge into sleep. 

Robbie found himself smiling down at James as he slept, marvelling at the amount of trust that James had shown him throughout the evening, and since he’d been hit by that curse. It had been Robbie he’d clung to at the scene, his little body trembling with shock, and Robbie he’d allowed to dress him. And now it was Robbie he trusted to keep him safe throughout the night.

Even though it was still early, Robbie found he was also exhausted from all the stresses of the day, and he started going about his own usual night time routine, choosing to leave a side-lamp on in the bedroom so he wouldn’t disturb James later. 

When the flat was locked down for the night and Robbie had changed into the t-shirt and shorts he usually slept in, he slipped carefully into bed behind James, who was now snoring ever so softly, little whuffles of air escaping his pouty lips.

As Robbie turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness before settling down into his own pillows, James suddenly snorted and rolled over in the bed. Robbie froze completely as James came to rest close by his side, one skinny little arm reaching halfway across his chest and head landing on Robbie’s shoulder.

Another little whuffly snore reassured Robbie that James was actually still asleep, instinctively seeking out a bigger and warmer body perhaps, and he slowly wrapped his arms around the childish form, tugging James closer still with a small smile.

There came a happy little mewl in response, and Robbie felt all the tension of the day fade away as he slipped peacefully into sleep himself, knowing James was safe and close after experiencing such a horrible and confusing day. And he was determined he would keep James safe and close until the curse hopefully wore off later the next afternoon.

But Robbie awoke the next morning to find that the curse had clearly not been as long-lasting as expected – rather than holding a small, skinny little five year old, he had a much heavier, much longer, much more masculine body in his arms.

James was still asleep, snoring softly, but his snores were now deeper and he’d somehow managed to tangle his long legs with Robbie’s as they’d slept. His head was still cushioned on Robbie’s shoulder, though, and his hand was resting over Robbie’s heart.

And Robbie was suddenly very much aware that James had gone to bed wearing only a t-shirt. 

What on earth should he do? There was no way to slide out from the bed without jostling James awake, not given how tightly the other man had wrapped around him. But in truth, Robbie didn’t really want to move – James was a warm and comfortable weight against him, and he was still safe and close, just as Robbie had wanted. 

It was actually just lovely to have someone he cared about sleeping in his arms and in his bed again; Robbie knew he cared deeply about James, had known that since long before the curse had struck, and he decided he could drift back to sleep happily for a while longer. He could worry about everything else later.

“Good morning, Robbie,” James suddenly rumbled quietly, his voice back down in his boots where it belonged, and all the long and lean muscles in his decidedly grown-up body tensed. “Sorry. Should I move?” 

Definite nerves there, perhaps unsurprisingly, and Robbie simply tightened his arms around James in response. “Nah, you’re all right just where you are,” he whispered, closing his eyes once again. “Get some more rest, man. It’s early still.”

For a moment, Robbie feared he’d said the wrong thing – just because he was happy with James in his arms didn’t mean that the other man was happy to stay there, of course, and he braced himself for James pulling away. Instead, there was a soft sigh. “Sounds like a plan,” James breathed as he relaxed back again, and Robbie could almost hear the smile in his voice when he added, “You make a particularly good pillow, I have to say.” 

Robbie found a smile on his own face as he gave in to the irresistible opportunity to reply with the obvious: “Grow up, James.”

But James, of course, couldn’t allow Robbie to have the last word. There was a gentle humping movement at Robbie’s hip – gentle enough to be ignored if Robbie chose, but also enough to allow a distinctive hardness to make itself known – and James whispered shyly, “Oh, I believe I already have.”

Perhaps, Robbie considered, opening his eyes again with a grin, they’d really had enough sleep after all.


End file.
